


y'know, now I know why we never tried doing this

by Sprytemark



Category: Penn Zero: Part-Time Hero
Genre: Gen, Let My Kids Sleep: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sprytemark/pseuds/Sprytemark
Summary: Kids really shouldn't stay up past like 2 in the morning, but if you're saving the world over and over, you have an excuse. Also, Rippen doesn't really consider the fact that if he keeps going in, mission after mission, all on the same day (night, next day), EVERYONE will be sleep-deprived.





	y'know, now I know why we never tried doing this

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hi, good morning. And now for something completely different! Yeah!   
> This was one of those ideas that just kept coming back and I stared at it for a vERY long time before cursing the fact that I was probably going to have to write the dang thing. That being said, enjoy!

“Nice job, team! That went about as well as it usually does. Which is to say, it went awesomely.” Penn bounced slightly in the air as he grinned at his teammates.

“I liked the part where we got to set fire to Rippen’s beard-mane.”

“He kinda looked like a flaming pigeon when you did that. With four arms, and no feathers. And a second Larry-head. Uh. You know, it didn’t really look like a pigeon at all, actually.”

The trio dropped casually to the ground, out of the blue light of the QPC. Per the norm, they had easily defeated the villains (with a small musical number to break the tension) and saved a grateful world of magical humanoid lion-horse-chimera hybrid things from imminent doom. It was now 4:52, a little later than they usually stayed, but not late enough to make Phyllis shove them out immediately demanding they “leave now or be mauled by guard bear”.

“Congratulation, you did not die. I expect you tomorrow, same time, yes? Yes. Goodbye now,” Phyllis called after them distractedly, pushing several buttons at once. The lights of the QPC flickered twice, then went out, leaving them in the ambient light of a relatively normal theatre.

“I can still taste victory,” Sashi muttered, looking down at the chairs to find where she had thrown her lunchbox. “It tastes like ice cream.”

“Dude, speaking of which, what exactly were you thinking with the whipped cream prank? That’s so predictable,” Boone asked, shoving Penn lightly.

“It was a classic, that’s what I was thinking. And it worked!” Penn shoved back. I did mention that “imminent doom” was losing the prank war at a summer camp, right? A summer camp full of magic humanoid lion-horse-chimera hybrid things.

Penn scooped up his backpack, fiddling with the clasps on his scooter, and was just about to push open the double-doors for Sashi and Boone when-

“Wait! Hold on, come back, children.”

A bright blue light flickered back on in the back of the Odyssey, flashing with a rapidly-moving image. The trio slowly backed away from the doors, confused expressions on their faces.

“Come back? Why? What’s that?” Penn asked up at the obscured form of Phyllis, who seemed to be warily switching back and forth from machine to machine, flipping tiny switches every now and again.

“New mission. New world. Overtime, come on, we go in now,” She said, short.

“Wait, what?”

“How? Is that a thing that can happen?”

“We already kicked their butts today, they want us to do it again?”

“Stop complaining, is annoying. Is unusual for this to happen, but not… impossible, necessarily. Go kick butt again,” Phyllis replied, irritated.

Obediently, the three shook off their backpacks, dropped their coins in the seat again (Penn snatched one out of Boone’s pocket for the fourth time in a row), and stepped back into their spots.

“This isn’t weird or anything, right? Like this has happened before?” Penn asked, eyeing the screen behind them.

“Ehh… Wellllllllll....” Phyllis trailed off, never finishing her sentence before a bright blue beam picked them up and deposited them inside a completely different dimension.

\---

Meanwhile, or a little bit before-meanwhile, next door…

Rippen sighed. Another one for the scrapbook, he supposed, alongside the pictures and entries that filled up more than half the book. Another failure to three children wh-

“That one was fun!” Larry piped up, a huge grin on his face despite the withering looks of both Phil and Rippen in response.

Larry began to ramble. “I mean, I got to be a head - and only a head - the whole mission. Like a headless horseman, but in reverse, like with two heads instead of zero. It reminds me of that one time, where I was gonna go as a horse for Halloween, but there was no one to be the tail. So I had to be the head and the tail, but I didn’t fit very well, so I just decided to be both at different times. It’s waaaaay easier to just be a head, especially si-”

“Yes, Larry, but you didn’t really do anything, now did you.” Rippen said.

“Naw, I thought you had it, what with you having motor control and all. I got distracted and fell completely in love with those s’mores! And I was there for moral support! Hey, Phil,” he directed his cheerfulness at the counter, “can we do that one again?”

“I don’t pick world.” Phil deadpanned. 

“But could you try to get us back to that one maybe again sometime maybe?” Behind Larry, with his back turned, Ripped perked up suddenly.

“What part of ‘I don’t pick world’ makes no sense? Is world that is in danger, maybe you take over and succeed for once. End of story.” 

Rippen spun around and smacked his hands on the table, pausing to shake them off before tapping his fingers excitedly on the surface. “But you could send us back in again now, couldn’t you?”

“Are you deaf? I-”

“Nonono! No, not to the summer camp world, no. To any world, now. I don’t care which one. Could we go back in?” Rippen persisted.

Phil paused. “I… suppose. Cooldown is minimal. Would take another hour or so, real time, but… yes.”

“HA!” Ripped yelled in triumph, and began to pace in tight circles. “Those heroes are, what, 12? All we have to do is tire them out, go on as many missions as it takes, and then strike when they’ve had enough! It’ll be like taking candy from a weak, sleepy baby!”

Phil stared for a moment before looking down at his DTM screens with the slightest smile on his face. “Idea… could actually work. Never tried. Sounds plausible.”

“It’s brilliant,” Rippen finished pacing with a flourish (and a sufficiently evil smile, to boot). “Let’s go thwart some heroes.”

\---

Of course, the heroes, now turned into a bee-like alien species attempting to save their planet from caving in on itself, were not thwarted. Yet. 

Penn and Sashi seemed to be soldiers of some kind, and Boone was some kind of bee-biologist. Or geologist. It seemed to be the same thing in this dimension, since the “planet” was a giant honey-encrusted ecosystem that ran underground and aboveground. The part-time heroes didn’t exactly know what the villains were, and spent a good five minutes discussing it - wasps from a neighboring planet? Just weird-looking conspiracy theorist bees? Not even the villains knew. 

After some well-executed banter (“Step away from the sinkhole!” “aww, you do care.”) and some not-so-well-executed banter (“BUZZ OFF!” “...you had to use that one, didn’t you?” “Of course I did. When’s the next time one of us is a bee?), the part-time heroes returned to the Odyssey triumphant.

And immediately cringed at the sound of two mechanical beeps, and the theatre screen starting back up again.

Phyllis cut them all off before they could complain. “Yes, is terrible, have fun setting record for most missions, _go,”_ she said, shoving them straight back in without looking their way.

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

Twin blips on Phyllis’ dashboard and a flash of light told the trio (who were almost out the door this time) another world needed saving.

“Oh for the _love of--”_ Penn snapped, before closing his eyes and holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Fine. Alright. What time is it, five? He’ll have to go home at some point, he’s a teacher. He’s got, I dunno, art to criticize and things to give Fs without even looking at them.”

“Well,” Boone started, “It is Friday. I mean, technically, he could do that in a couple hours, so…”

“Whatever. He’s gotta do something with his life that doesn’t involve us, right?”

...The trio tried very hard not to snicker as they were pulled back into the air and into a new dimension.

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

“I see what they're doing. It won't work, we’re not leaving a world in danger.” Penn grumbled, stepping off of the platform and circling a spot on the floor.

“It’s not like anything is gonna change,” Sashi chipped in. “He's just gonna keep losing.”

“I wonder what he’s thinking about right now…?” Boone wondered, staying put in his spot, and instead opting to stare off into the left wall as if he were trying to look into Fishstick on a Stick. Were they angry…? Determined? Smad??

 

In fact, Rippen was having the time of his life. Larry was too, because for once, his boss was actually being cheerful in his own weird way! What a great change, and it only took some extreme overtime. 

“Bring us some coffee next run, eh Phil? Keep the enthusiasm up?” Rippen stood gleefully in front of the rapidly-changing red screen on the left wall. 

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

“I’m learning to hate that noise,” Sashi remarked, staring at Phyllis, who shrugged. 

Boone sat down on his spot again. “It’s like a Pavlov thing, y’know? Like when I’m 50, I won’t be able to hear two beeps without shuddering.”

“What time is it?”

“Late. Uh… oh, whuh, it’s 7:15.”

“I think I need to call my parents before we go back in. Can I ‘sleep over’ at your house, Penn?”

“Good idea. Sashi, you’re officially invited over.”

“Children need food, yes? I bring cake or something soon.”

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

Cake (and cream puffs, jello, and shawarma from somewhere) had been a miracle worker, curing the kids’ hunger and giving them a substantial sugar rush, so much so that all three of them practically jumped into the QPC, chatting with each other excitedly. Rippen never stood a chance that round. 

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

The cake had worn off. Fast. It did not help that it was now approximately 3:10 am. By now, it had been a few too many to count. What was this, the 10th time saving the world in one day? That had to be a record.

No one spoke this time, just groaned and resigned themselves to being picked up again. 

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

“I’m ready. I’m ready to go. Let’s go!”

“Penn, buddy, I’m pretty sure that’s (yawn) just the fake sense of wakefulness you get when you’re sleep-deprived. You know like that one time we stayed up for two days to play Super Destructo Robots With Guns?”

“I _do_ remember that, and I remember I kicked your butt after 26 hours, because I was full of _energy,”_ Penn bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Sad, fake energy.” (Yawn)

“Absolutely real energy that I, myself, made, on my own.”

“You two are lucky I’m conserving _my_ energy for saving the world, because your voices are giving me a headache, and if not for my training, they would already be quiet,” Sashi grumbled.

The blue beam started to take them up again, in relative silence.

“Kids are lucky I don’t need sleep, but I am missing morning Zumba, so I have no pity,” Phyllis said, pushing the (it was getting a little squeaky, she’d have to fix that) lever forwards.

\---

_Beep! Beep!_

Penn set up a watch on one of the torn-up seats a few missions ago, and it now read 7:54 am.

“Oh come on, this is (yawn) earlier than I usually… Than… weekends. Well, I usually get up on Saturdays,” Penn muttered to himself. “I get up on Saturdays, sometimes,”

“Wait, sometimes you _don’t_ get up? Me too!”

“That sounds useless,” Sashi adjusted her hair half-heartedly.

“No, wait, what I mean to say is sometimes, I get up on Saturdays before, and sometimes like a couple weeks ago I didn’t. I woke up late because there was a thing, with earmuffs, and the blanket, and The Chinchilla, but I don’t usually --” and he was cut off by the sound of zapping into another dimension.

\--

10:23 am.

Slowly, one by one, the blue lights and flashing screens turned off as Phyllis shut down the external QPC. 

Nothing beeped. Not that the part-time heroes would have heard it. As soon as the blue tractor beam released the trio onto the floor, Boone flopped straight onto his stomach and started snoring. Sashi rubbed her face, knocking her glasses to the side, before stumbling to the right (bumping into Penn) and tripping over Boone. 

“‘S soft,” she muttered, before giving up and resigning herself in a very un-Sashi-like fashion to relax on Boone’s side.

Penn waited, blinking into the soft theatre light and trying to make his vision focus on Phyllis’ dashboard.

“No more. Is fine, I took care of it. Go to sleep, Penn Zero.”

With a sigh of relief, Penn dropped himself (tripped) onto the very cozy-looking Boone next to Sashi. 

“Scoot a bit.”

“Go on th’ other side.”

“Ffffhhiineee,” Penn said, but didn’t move.

They were out within five seconds.

(Meanwhile, Rippen shoved an already-asleep Larry aside and wedged himself between a chair and the table with a single “I'm old. Shut up.” before falling asleep as well. Phil snorted, and went back to reading his newspaper.)

(It was a very unproductive Saturday.)


End file.
